


It's Just Exhaustion, Honest

by lindsey_grissom



Series: tumblr drabbles [1]
Category: Holby City
Genre: F/F, Serena saves the hospital again, set before Bernie's canon return, was completely jossed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 17:07:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9247304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lindsey_grissom/pseuds/lindsey_grissom
Summary: Serena's exhausted, her blood sugar is low, that's all. It has nothing to do with Bernie.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was written before the Tristan storyline had finished playing out. It assumes that Imelda had a bigger part to play and that Serena ended up stepping in to save the hospital (well, she has every other time so it seemed likely!). This was aimed to be set about 2 or 3 days after the mess was sorted.
> 
> Previously posted to tumblr.

“You need a holiday.”

Serena smiles tiredly into her palm, blinking her eyes again in an attempt to get the text on the screen to stop blurring. “Wouldn’t that be nice?”

Raf settles in a lean against the nurses station and Serena tips her head, finally looking him over. “What’s your secret, then? You’re looking particularly bright-eyed this morning.”

“I have a rather stubborn boss who insisted I take a day off yesterday, despite not heeding her own advice.”

Serena laughs, leaning back in her chair and rolling her neck to loosen the kinks. “Sounds like the sort of boss you should buy a nice bottle of shiraz for.”

“I think she’s probably not been short of that the last few weeks.” Comes the dry reply from Raf and Serena waves a lazy hand out to smack against his arm. She misses, fingers grazing the desk edge. She really is incredibly tired now.

“Cheeky. Might not be so forgiving this boss of yours if you keep that up.”

Bringing her hands to her eyes she rubs at them, careful to keep her fingertips clear of the mascara on her lashes, what little of it is left clinging on since she applied it, _oh_ it has to have been over twenty-four hours ago now. 

“You really should go home. I can take over here for a bit.” Serena smiles and hums, eyes still covered.

“That’s a very tempting offer, Mr Di Lucca, but as you know we are slaves to the darling red phone and I couldn’t put you that short staffed.” Hilarious that for a very brief moment Serena almost wishes Imelda were still here, if only for the strain the extra pair of hands had relieved briefly. Not that she was of course at all useful in a practical sense, but she would have freed up Serena from the maze of paperwork her office has since become. Still, probably best in the long run that the woman is gone again, even if it does mean Serena’s unlikely to see her own bed for another day. She’ll have to catch some sleep in the on call room later, take another shower in the delightful shower room. Good lord, she’s living like an F1 - no wonder Jason has taken himself off to Alan’s for a week.

“Serena-”

She holds up a hand to stop him, keeping her eyes closed as bright white lights up her eyelids. “No, I know what you’re going to say, and it’s sweet, really, but unless a fully trained and absurdly qualified consultant walks through those doors looking for a tragically underpaid job, then I’m afraid I’ll be here until the paperwork is done or I collapse from old age, whichever comes first.” She’d bet on old age herself, she can feel that collapse coming on imminently. Damn Tristan. Damn Hanssen, Ric and Guy too while she’s at it and their respective idiocies in not seeing the slimy bugger coming.

“No, Serena. Look.”

Grumbling to herself _“not another ED referral, honestly do they treat anyone down there these days?”_ Serena straightens up from her sprawl and blinks her eyes open, slightly horrified by how long it takes to clear them enough to see. “What am I looking for?” She questions, finding only a peculiarly still ward.

“I think that would be me.”

Time has not lessened the effect of that particular voice on Serena’s body; her heart rate increasing alarmingly whilst her very empty stomach drops and the hair’s on the back of her neck prickle. The black spots crossing her vision however are new, good thing she was already sitting down.

Slowly, feeling every hour she has been on her feet this last week, Serena turns her head, the ward swirling around her sickeningly. She swallows quickly as saliva fills her mouth and finally steadies her eyes on a rather nervous Bernie Wolfe. 

“Hello Serena.”

There goes her stomach again. “You should know, I haven’t eaten more than a croissant in two days and despite what the hospital literature might say, the on call beds are not conducive to restful sleep.”

“Right.” Serena smiles at Bernie’s confused face. She’s missed that face, she really has. And those hands currently gripping white knuckled to the strap of her bag. Missed those lips too, soft and warm, tasting of – _focus Campbell, you’re trying to say something._

“Yes, so what I mean to say is, I might faint in a moment. And if I do, it’s low blood sugar, don’t go getting a big head thinking it’s because of you.”

And then because of the lack of sugar and not at all because of those hands reaching out for her, Serena finds the ward going dark and her body collapsing.

She doesn't feel herself hit the desk; it isn't until she wakes up in a bed sometime later, a hand wrapped tightly around her own and an IV in her arm, that she learns Bernie caught her before she could.


End file.
